


Dear Fairy Godfather

by unworthiesthand



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8845540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unworthiesthand/pseuds/unworthiesthand
Summary: In which Michel has to play impromptu counselor for Paris’ sexuality crisis. Mainly Michel/Paris, but hints of Rory/Paris.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Gilmore Girls does not belong to me.

**i.**

Michel hates when Paris comes to visit.

She’s loud, demanding, and always has something to complain about. Normally it’s _his_ job to be complaining all the time. He really does not appreciate–nor does he want–the competition.

Paris does not seem to get the hint.

He sighs dramatically as Paris rambles on about something Michel can’t be bothered to listen to, and he sends a silent thank to a God he doesn’t believe in when Rory shows up and Paris leaves him alone.

He doesn’t miss the way Paris’ face lights up at the sight of Rory, either. It’s a look he’s too familiar with—one he’s seen on his _own_ face when his partner enters the room.

He decides not to meddle. After all, he is not a Gilmore girl.

**ii.**

Paris has not stopped jiggling her leg since she sat down. Michel finds it irritating, at best, but she has once again chosen to ignore his not-so-subtle hints.

He really despises her. And Lorelai, for insisting Michel would be _fine_ to keep Paris busy for just two more minutes.

_She’s probably just putting her off, too. Insufferable women, the both of them. Thank God I’m gay._

**iii.**

“Michel.”

The voice is familiar to him now. He sighs, carefully noting where he is in his work before looking up at Paris. He had accepted long ago that it was pointless to try and get any work done when Paris was around. The young girl simply made it impossible.

“Yes?” He questions, his French drawl thicker than normal with his already blossoming annoyance.

“You are, of course, aware that I have been seeking spiritual and life guidance from Lorelai lately.”

“Something about your constant presence here alerted me to the fact, yes.”

“Right. Well, its occurred to me that maybe the person I should really be seeking out is you.”

Michel wonders if he is in one of his nightmares again. Paris has been a common theme in them lately, unfortunately. He sees her face too often in reality as it was.

“I’m sorry?”

“I think you might be the one I need advice from, after all.” Paris repeats. She has a bright and determined look in her eye that makes Michel contemplate simply running off.

He makes a vague noise–something akin to utter disbelief–that Paris takes as her cue to continue.

“Michel, and I apologize in advance for the pun, because puns are an extremely low form of wit, let’s be straight with each other: you’re as queer as a three dollar bill.”

Michel’s eyes widen ever-so-slightly. He supposes he’s never _actively_ tried to hide his sexuality, but he’s never willingly offered up details, either. It was a thing that everyone knew but never felt important to talk about—unlike Lorelai and her never-ending relationship melodramas. 

He finally remembers to speak. “Yes. And your point is…?”

“I think I might be gay. I’m in need of…advice.”

Michel inwardly swears. This has to be his karma for being so unpleasant to guests, no matter how intolerable they are. This is not a conversation he wants to have, least of all with _Paris Geller_.

“Lorelai should be back any minute now—”

“I already told you. I can’t go to Lorelai. Please, you think cookie cutter heterosexual Lorelai Gilmore can offer up any real advice about _this?_ She could try, but it’s not the same. You know that.”

The look on Paris’ face is so pleading that Michel can feel himself caving. He hates himself, and his weakness. He officially clocks in his break–his precious, precious break–and motions for Paris to come sit down in the vacant dining hall.

“What is it that you want to know?” He starts. He’s uncomfortable and he has no idea how to navigate this conversation. He’s not normally the one people come to for advice, let alone sexually confused teenagers. Isn’t this what Google’s for?

“I’m just…confused. I never really considered this before. I mean, I’ve had crushes on boys before. Or, at least, I thought I did… but now that I look back on it, it just never feels like how everyone says it’s supposed to.”

Michel fights a grimace. He loathes talking about gooey, romantic feelings. He can barely bring himself to say ‘I love you’ to anyone that wasn’t his dogs.

“And there’s this…girl. She’s always been unshakable to me. I suppose I’ve always had certain…feelings for her, but I either pushed them away or chalked them up to teenage hormones. But they aren’t going away.”

Yet another thing Michel does not want to hear about: Rory. Although he’s never fawned over the girl like the rest of the town, she _is_ like family to him and the thought of someone having a crush on her (previous boyfriends aside) is…well, unpleasant.

Michel hums and Paris continues to vent.

**iv.**

Michel did not enjoy the conversation.

And even if he did, it was simply because he’s always been too afraid to speak openly about his sexuality in this too small town.

He certainly does _not_ smile when he sees Paris enter now.

**v.**

It’s roughly a month later that Rory enters, looking paler than normal and almost childishly small in her God awful Chilton uniform.

“Your mother is in the back somewhere,” he informs her after an initial once over. “Something about a coffee crisis.”

He can see Rory nod out of the corner of his eye.

She doesn’t move.

“Michel… can– can I talk to you about something? I was hanging out with Paris, and…”


End file.
